


Let Down Thy Golden Skein

by AnnieVH



Series: Behind Closed Doors [28]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Rumbelle - Freeform, pre-rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 16:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3617220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle returns a book. It doesn’t go as well as expected.<br/>Set after "Old Friends".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Down Thy Golden Skein

**Author's Note:**

> Pairings for this verse: eventual Rumbelle and Swanfire.  
> Warnings for this verse: abusive relationship, implied non-con situations, child-abuse, violence, infidelity, very anti-Milah.
> 
> A HUGE THANKS to Maddie (maddiebonanafana.tumblr.com) who did the beta for this one-shot!

Just to be safe, Belle removed _Treasure Island_ from the shelf and kept it on her desk, waiting for Mr. Gold to show up at any moment to reclaim it. But one week came and went and he still hadn't come back to the library, for that or any other book. For a man who spent the last year regularly breaking into the building to take books as he pleased, he was shaping up to be quite a restrained customer.

At first, she thought that maybe he was embarrassed by his wife's behavior and was avoiding her. They hadn’t talked much after Valentine’s Day either, and Belle hadn’t given it much thought back then. But on the third day she realized something that worried her even more. Usually, she could spot him on the streets, or greet him shortly at Granny's; not always, but enough times, especially towards the end of the week, when rent was due. For a man with a bad leg, he moved around on foot quite a bit.

But ever since the ceremony, it was like he had left town. Belle couldn't see him _anywhere_ and that made her feel uneasy. Neal hadn’t gotten into any details about the kind of trouble his mother could cause, but Belle had the feeling it was a lot more than just a drinking problem and the occasional public scandal.

It got to a point that she decided to ask Ruby if Mr. Gold had come in for coffee at anytime, hoping she’d answer something along the lines of “every morning” and then tease her for being worried about Mr. Gold yet again.

Ruby, however, answered with a short, “No,” and used Belle’s question to start on what was now her favorite topic: “And I haven’t seen Graham either, so if you do see him, do me a favor and tell him to stop acting like a child! We’re both mature grown ups and I know he hates the coffee they make at the Sheriff department.”

Belle didn’t press for a better answer. She simply made a mental note to talk to Graham about putting Ruby out of her misery and just talk about that night already. It would be awkward, but it was long overdue.

As for Mr. Gold, she decided to casually wander to his shop on Wednesday morning and see if he was open for business. Maybe he and his wife had left town for some unplanned vacations, waiting for the gossip regarding her latest scandal to die. However, the sign on the door read “Open” and she could see him moving inside the shop from the other side of the street. Just another regular day.

Belle felt the urge to come in and ask how was everything, and if his wife got home okay the other day, just to put her mind at ease. She had promised Neal she'd keep an eye on him. If there was anything wrong, she had to know. But she couldn’t find a reason to. They were friends, but not the kind that dropped by casually just to say “hi”. If anything, they looked more like partners in crime, constantly exchanging favors. A van for solace, a job for a functional library, a flower for a bright idea, a book for forgiveness.

If only she had another bouquet. They were good icebreakers.

She did have a book, though. A book that belonged to him.

The next day, she paid him a visit with a special delivery. Rain was pouring outside, but she tried to smile in the most natural way when she greeted, “Hey.”

Mr. Gold looked up. “Ms. French. Hi.”

Belle examined his face. He looked... normal. A little surprise at seeing her barging in, her overcoat soaking wet, but not an unpleasant surprise. Probably just wondering who’d be crazy enough to go out in that rain.

“You're out of breath, is everything alright?” he asked.

Belle made an exaggerated flourish with her hand to wave away the fact that running three blocks in high heel boots in the rain was close to torture. “Nothing. I was afraid I'd miss your lunchtime.”

“I'm doing the inventory.” He showed her the card index he was going through. Then he grimaced. “My lunchtime will consist of a sandwich.”

“You should look at it as a picnic.”

“Such an optimist. You can come in, you know? I can always mop the floors.”

She took his permission and walked up to the counter, expecting to find something out of place now that he was so close to her. But his suit was as impeccable as ever and his face was shaved. With a startle, she realized she was checking him for bruises.

He asked, “What can I do for you?”

Belle blinked. “Come again?”

He chuckled. “I asked, what can I do for you?”

“Oh!” She laughed to cover for her embarrassment. She had been staring at his face like a crazy person, dripping water on his floor, and just standing there with nothing to say for how long now? If the answer was longer than three seconds, it was already too much. “Nothing. I just came by to give you your book back.”

She opened her oversized purse and took _Treasure Island_ out.

Though it wasn’t her intention, now _he_ was the one looking embarrassed. “Ms. French, you really didn’t have to.”

“I know. You said that you don't mind, but it was your mother's and I think it's best if it stays with you.” She placed the book on the counter. “I'm sure it brings you a lot of memories of her.”

“She died when I was two years old, it really-” then he cut himself short.

Belle watched him, waiting for him to say anything else. He was probably going to try to convince her that the fact that he had no memories of his mother whatsoever was enough reason to throw away her possessions. Personally, Belle thought that not knowing her was even more reason to keep her favorite book. She could spend hours with the collection her mother had left behind, wondering if her favorite passages had made Colette laugh or cry just as much. The little notes on the margins were hidden treasures. Her favorite was a big star marking a sonnet that said: _show to Belle, she doesn’t know this one yet_.

But then Mr. Gold lowered his eyes and looked at the book. His face softened. He took the book in his hands and sighed with something close to happiness. “I do appreciate it, Ms. French. Thank you. It's all I have of her. I should get to keep it.”

“My pleasure. And I made a list of the other books your wife donated, if you’d like to double check. If anything shouldn't be there, don't hesitate to tell me.”

He looked at the paper and his brow frowned slightly.

Belle asked, “What?”

But he said, “No. It’s fine. These are the ones I’d have chosen.”

_They’re all his books._

Out loud, Belle held her tongue.

He asked, “Was there anything else? Because I really need to get back to my inventory.”

“Of course,” she said, promptly, taking a step back from the counter. “I already abused your time too much.” She turned. Then, took a deep breath and faced him again. “Actually, that's not all.”

He looked up from the cards again.

“I told Neal,” she confessed. “About the night I went to your house. On Valentine's Day.”

“Ah,” he said. “That.”

“I just thought you should know.”

“I know,” he answered, to her surprise.

“You know,” she repeated.

“We had dinner before he left and he told me.”

“Well,” she said, looking a little startled. “I just didn't want you to think I was gossiping. Or complaining behind your back because that is not the case.”

“I don't. I know he probably asked you in the first place,” Mr. Gold said, sounding annoyed for the first time.

Maybe it was the thought of him being angry at Neal, or maybe she just wanted to show her support, Belle wasn't really sure. All she knew was that she couldn't hold back her tongue and said, “He means well when he asks these things. He's worried, that is all. If it were my parents, I'd probably be worried too.”

She spoke softly, not wanting him to think she was prying into a private matter. Just the advice of a friend, nothing more. But Mr. Gold examined her face, his eyes narrowing at her. Then, he turned around to look at the book he had put away.

When he turned back, his expression had went from neutral to cautious and he looked as if he was trying to catch her in a lie when he asked, “Why do I get the feeling you didn’t just drop by in the rain to return that book?”

Belle’s gut tightened in a very unpleasant way. God, Ruby was right. She _was_ a terrible liar.

She threaded carefully when she spoke, “You've been helping me a lot. I just wanted you to know that, in case you need my help, well...”

Mr. Gold stared at her. Then licked his lips slowly, looking less and less pleased with that conversation with each word that left her mouth.

“I mean, with _anything_ , you just have to tell me. That is all.”

Before he could say anything, she turned around, but wasn’t fast enough to make it to the door before he called, “Ms. French, wait.”

When she turned, he had walked around the counter and stopped half-way to meet her.

“I don't mind that you talked to my son,” he started, his voice colder than she’d ever heard it before. “Nor that you gave him excruciating details on a private matter-”

“I wasn't trying to-” Belle hurriedly tried.

“As I said,” he interrupted, leaning on his cane and looking _very_ annoyed. “I do not mind. Given my wife's behavior, I think you had every right to vent to a friend. I am also aware that Bae must have drilled you with questions because that's my son and, apparently, he sees me as someone who can't take care of himself. That is also not your fault.”

“Yes, I meant-”

He raised his voice slightly. It was enough to shut her up. “But I will _not_ tolerate you joining him in judging the choices that I make. He's already got the Sheriff to stalk me, and that is quite enough.”

“Mr. Gold, I wasn't trying to-”

“Other than that, you'd do me a favor to remember you got here not even two months ago and I won't have a _stranger_ looking in on my marriage and telling me what I should or should not do. I'm a grown man, I've been married for thirty years, and if I sometimes get into a fight with my wife, that is nobody's business. Not my son's, not this town's, and definitely not _yours_.”

He stopped.

Belle realized he was expecting her to say something, but her mouth was dry.

She cleared her throat and rasped, “Right. I understand. I'm sorry I was out of line.”

“You were,” he said, very firm. “Now, please, leave. I have a lot of things to do.”

With that, he gave her his back and went back to his card index.

Belle gave him a minute to see if he was going to add anything else. He didn’t. He just went back to work as if she had already left.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “Good day, Mr. Gold.”

He heard her, but didn’t acknowledge her words or her presence until she left the shop to make her way back to the library under the heavy rain.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A list of all one-shots in verse chronological order can be found here: http://annievh.tumblr.com/post/102166515522/behind-closed-doors-warnings-domestic-abuse
> 
> I'm still taking prompts for this verse if anybody wants to send them.
> 
> I'm also doing a ASK MY CHARACTERS (annievh.tumblr.com/ask).


End file.
